


Possibility of Friendship

by HoshisamaValmor (HannibalCatharsis)



Category: Shaman King
Genre: Father Figures, Friendship, Nostalgia, Reminiscing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-14
Updated: 2017-09-14
Packaged: 2018-12-29 22:45:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12095073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HannibalCatharsis/pseuds/HoshisamaValmor
Summary: Hao thinks about Opacho. Set after the end of the manga.





	Possibility of Friendship

Coming into this new, third life, he never even considered this as a possibility.

If he had to imagine anything, he anticipated to be surprised by further proof on the rotten core of mankind and how it was exponentially affecting shamans, rendering them just as useless. And even _that_ was a long shot - there was little room to be surprised. Not with almost 1000 years worth of experience.

He could expect to see scenarios like the ones surrounding his comrades. The tragedy, struggle and suffering. He targeted them for that very reason.

But somehow, the sight of those hardly breathing corpses felt different even then, years ago. And he could now see how he underestimated the reaction he felt at the time.

It wasn't that the people, or that baby - a bundle tossed into a basket, curled around itself in search for a last remnant of comfort and affection - were outcasts of their community, deemed evil or dangerous. _That_  would have at least resonated in some familiriaty, if not for anything else. They weren't outcasts, their entire community was just deemed too irrelevant or helpless to survive under the harshest conditions. Fester in famine like so many before them.

He recalled how her featherly weight seemed so wrong to his small body. He was a child himself then, five, six years old. And yet she weighted near to nothing, even his small form could carry her. The sharp bones pushing so painfully to tear open the sunken skin. Maybe the name that occured to him so effortlessly should have been a hint of that _possibility, but again,_  it was clear _now_  that Hao had underestimated quite a lot of things in this new life.

She wasn't a demon like Ohachiyou, or shared the power of Reishi like his childhood friend had. Hao wouldn't consume her soul like he had done Ohachiyou. But clearly, she and Ohachiyou had shared a bit too much in common.

After the demon, Matamune, Daitaro... it wasn't a possibility. At all.

Someone had said ' _Miracles come in small packages'_  and he wouldn't have considered the words had he not, now, be sitting in the Shaman King society and contemplating these thoughts. The possibility fitted the 'miracle' definition, even if Hao still doubted miracles existed.

Maybe to everyone else who stood there, a miracle had happened at the time when Opacho jumped so selflessly into the blackhole. Hao didn't call it miracle even now. It still hurt, in a way it wasn't supposed to. For him, that moment had made him realize the possibility happened and he couldn't bear even the instant of panic he feared he would lose her.

She deserved to live. No hatred justified sacrificing her.

Those who stood there then might have called it a miracle, when he stopped the black hole for the sake of one girl.

.

Hao watched the small child he never thought would become a friend, someone he cared for so much, grow up and live the life she deserved. Making her own choices, living amongst the humans and building her own bridge and link between the two sides, shaman and human.

He often thought of approaching her in the human world, but he never let himself be seen. Part of him knew she was aware of his presence (not like the assembly of cats every so often was stealthy approach... But he couldn't pass without their fluffiness) and that was enough. He told himself it was to keep himself from interfering in her life - to remain just a silent guardian, as so many humans believed God to be.

As Shaman King, he should have little doubts, and indeed he did. The acceptance of the facts had, admittingly, taken him a bit to manage, despite having lived three times and walked through Hell twice. Making peace with his human side - the good part of being human - was what solified his place as Shaman King. Hao didn't discard it now. Like he hadn't when Yoh, Anna and his nephew needed.

Family. That small child that never judged him and always made him smile, and against all odds and possibilities, made Asakura Hao care for the well being of someone else.

When he came at peace with that, and knew he wouldn't harm the life she had built for herself, he came to her.

Opacho was a young woman by then. She had grown tall, her features matured into a beautiful complexion, her long hair a big cloud of fluffy curls. Dusk had set the sky in fiery, but quickly and quietly darkening to purpleish navy, eventually starfilled black sky. She was crouched down, patting one of the cats that had demanded her attention during her stroll back home from work. Giggling at the creature's goofy loops and flips on the ground, content with her fondle.

Hao waited for Opacho to stand up and untangle her orange scarf from the two furry newcomers that had started playing with the colorful beads at the end. The cats entertained her gaze for a little longer, until she caught the sight of his kimono.

Without any hesitation, Opacho jumped, locking her arms around him so tighly he was caught by surprise and unbalanced. She had grown so much, he barely reached her shoulders now.

"Hao-sama! I've missed you so much!" The joy irradiated in waves and she spinned them both around, carrying him in her arms.

Hao smiled against her, letting her words and utter joy seep into his soul. He reached his arms up and tried to hug her as tightly as she did.

"I missed you too, Opacho."

.

**終わり**

.

**Author's Note:**

> Seeing as I am still continuously writing Levi fics and more will come, this fic marks the last entry on my five boy reminiscence fics.
> 
> All my 7 years tributes are done. As a final note more to myself: I do not intend or plan to write Mello and Alois again, and their stories reflect that. With Soujirou and Hao, I'm glad I have left them on a positive note, until maybe someday I write them again. Young Levi stopped in a painful place, from where resistence grows.
> 
> I'd say 'Until 7 years from now', but.
> 
> Thanks for reading, please point out mistakes and reviews are appreciated.


End file.
